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She burst into astonished laughter. “Of course I don’t still love you.”
He stepped closer and grabbed her arms. “It’s your pride speaking. Or perhaps your womanly modesty. I can imagine the last years. Your trials are my fault and I’ll never again mention what you’ve been forced to do.”
With a savage gesture, Nicholas struck Johnny’s hands away from Antonia. “Touch her again, I kill you, whatever she says.”
His voice vibrated with fury. She shot him a quelling look. He glared back unrepentant. Actually she was grateful he was here. She’d hate to deal with Johnny alone.
Johnny reacted with wisdom if not gallantry and stepped back. “I’ll take you to Devon. We’ll be together as we always should have been.”
Antonia struggled to overcome a sensation of unreality. “Johnny, it’s been ten years.”
He raised his hands again, but dropped them the second he encountered Ranelaw’s baleful regard. “There hasn’t been a moment during those ten years when I haven’t loved you. Let’s put aside the past. Let me save you from a life of vice and unhappiness.”
She smothered another scornful laugh. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
He frowned. “There’s no need to lie.”
“Damn it, man, she’s not your responsibility,” Nicholas growled, moving closer to Antonia.
She tr
ied to inject a note of reason. “Johnny, it was better for you to believe I was dead . . .”
“Never,” he said fervently.
“Too much time has passed. I’m not the girl you knew.”
“She’s too bloody good for you. She’s always been too bloody good for you,” Nicholas interjected.
Antonia glowered at him. “You’re not helping.”
“I don’t intend to.” He looked particularly lordly as he surveyed her with arched brows and a contemptuous curl of his lip. “Send the puppy on his way.”
“Lord Ranelaw, I protest.” Johnny retained his distance. “The lady may have stooped to share her favors but those days are past. I intend to make an honest woman of her.”
Reluctantly Antonia dragged her gaze from Nicholas to Johnny. He wasn’t a cruel man. He was stupid and self-centered and vain. But Nicholas was right. Somehow, against all the odds, he’d convinced himself he still loved her.
Her voice was gentle and held a trace of sadness for what had once existed between them, however illusory. “Johnny, what you ask is impossible.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Nobody can know I’m alive. Think of the scandal if the whole story comes out.”
“I want to marry you,” Johnny said doggedly. “That will protect you from calumny.”
“I don’t want to marry you.”
“You’d rather endure Ranelaw’s sordid caresses? I can’t believe that, Antonia. At heart, you’re a virtuous woman.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. His description struck particularly false when she’d just spent the night in a rake’s arms. “Johnny, it’s over. It was over when my father told me you were married. Forget me.”
“I’ll never forget you. I know you still love me.”
“I don’t,” she said with utter conviction.
Years ago, she’d told herself she’d recovered from her infatuation with Johnny’s good looks and romantic mien—and it hadn’t been much more than that, God forgive her for what she’d done. This encounter proved how right she’d been. When she surveyed him, no trace of attraction stirred.
Compared to Nicholas, he was uncooked clay.
She went on before Johnny objected. “I haven’t been living in sin all these years. I found a respectable position with a good family.” She swallowed and spoke as seriously as she could. “Johnny, if my identity becomes known, it will hurt the people who offered me shelter after you abandoned me.”
She wasn’t above emotional blackmail, not if it ensured Johnny’s silence. Although he used to be garrulous in drink. Nicholas’s encounter with him in the tavern indicated he still was. “I want your word as a gentleman that you’ll never divulge you’ve seen me.”
